


Calloused Hands Are Not Beautiful

by Ysavvryl



Category: Story of Seasons: Trio of Towns
Genre: Childhood, Gen, Pre-Canon, Sexism, tycoon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 04:23:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10712103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ysavvryl/pseuds/Ysavvryl
Summary: But does that really matter?  This is a story of a girl who would make her life's dream come true by her own work.





	Calloused Hands Are Not Beautiful

The silence hung awkwardly in their bubble of unease. There was a family a few rows ahead that was laughing and chatting animatedly. Not that long ago, Daryl had told her that she’d changed his life for the better, that he worked to be a better man for her. It was sincere and Marlena wanted to be the best wife for him. Although, that included both of them taking responsibility for his past mistakes. But she shouldn’t think of it that way. The girl deserved a loving, safe, and happy home.

That just wasn’t something one could build at a moment’s notice. But ever since she’d been a teen, Marlena had wanted to have a clever and curious daughter. A girl that she could take around to museums, zoos, and other such places to see her eyes light up in awe. They would ask questions and have lively discussions about learning new things. And Holly was already reading past her age group. When she had her own child… no, even then, Holly could enjoy such adventures with her. She’d make both her children happy.

At the rural station, they were the only passengers to get off. It was pleasantly warm and sunny out here, the summer air filled with lively scents. Marlena was a city girl all her life, but she had to admit that their walk down the dirt road, surrounded by growing corn and sunflowers, filled her with a joyful energy unlike anything else. After a few minutes, they’d arrived. “This is a petting farm, where they let you see the animals and crops up close,” she said. “Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

Holly gave a little nod, unsure of what she was expected to do. She was quick to point to the sign. “Why do they spell things wrong there?”

It was a rustic wooden sign, with notes such as ‘U-pik-um berries (when in season)’ and ‘Fresh hunny’. “They might think it’s cute or funny,” Marlena explained.

At first, she remained unsure, especially at the prospect of petting a cow much larger than herself. But Holly did laugh when the cow nuzzled her in response. Not long after, she was running around to see what else was around, her dark hair bouncing around in a ponytail behind her. She had a very Asian look, Marlena thought again. And her mannerisms were like that too, given that she bowed and didn’t know what to make of a handshake. But her blue eyes were exactly like Daryl’s.

She did ask many questions once she relaxed. “How do you make your strawberries taste so good?” she asked, bits of red juice and little seeds on her chin. “The ones at the store don’t taste like this.”

“It takes lots of love and proper care to bring out the best in them,” the farmer said. Unexpectedly, this owner was an old woman, working on this farm with the help of her children and grandchildren. “Many farmers make the mistake of doing all they can to get the most produce out of their crops, but that makes them plain and unremarkable. The healthiest crops are the tastiest.”

“That makes sense,” Holly said. Then she smiled up at them. “I wanna be a farmer and have a farm like this!”

Her enthusiasm was positively adorable, especially in contrast to how she’d been on the trip out here. Marlena and the old farmer ended up chuckling at her. “It’s a lot of hard work,” the old farmer said. “You have to be dedicated, and loyal to your land. But the rewards are bounteous once they come in.”

“If you put in a lot of hard work and love, you could make any dream come true,” Marlena added. Although honestly, her own dreams were rather simple and low-key. She was still working for a comfortable home and a close family.

Nodding, the old farmer added, “And when you get to school, you could join the FFH, the Future Farmers and Homemakers Association. They’ll help you out with learning basic skills.”

“Okay,” Holly said.

That night, Marlena told Daryl about their trip. “She asked if she could call me Mom, and then was so surprised when I said I’d be happy with that,” she said, still feeling a kind of sunny strawberry joy at it.

“I’m glad she’s starting to accept us,” Daryl said, giving a rare smile. When she first met him, Marlena had thought he had an attitude like a rough weathered rock. But there were sparkles of a brighter person within that.

“She’s such a darling when she’s happy,” she said. “She was so enthusiastic that she said that she wanted to be a farmer.”

“I hope she doesn’t become one,” Daryl said. “That’s a hard life; I know because I was one for a few years with my brother. You work all day every day, and then a couple of unlucky storms come through and you’re scrounging to get by until a new batch of crops is ready to harvest.”

“Don’t stress out over that, dear,” Marlena said, knowing that he fret over possibilities far too much. “Children will have hundreds of dreams before they grow up and settle on one. We just have to watch for what talents and interest she has.”

“That’s true.” He looked up at the ceiling, his mind wandering. “I hope we can give her a better life than her mother had, a much better one. She was a bright girl, a little strange but it made her fascinating. Still, I had no idea she saw things as so bleak.”

Indeed, that woman’s fate made it difficult to feel jealous of her. “We will, Holly’s our daughter now.”

* * *

In second grade, Holly’s teacher gave them an assignment to talk about jobs. Because she was a girl, she was to tell her class about her father’s job. “He buys and sells things cause he’s a trader,” she started with.

“But everybody buys and sells things,” another girl in class said, make some others titter about it. She was being a pest again today because she making everyone else’s parents look lame with such comments.

Holly had it worse because she was the new girl. But she was determined not to be bullied, especially not about her parents. “But not like my dad! He goes to lots of foreign countries based on supply and demand. Like, he’ll go to a big ranch where there’s lots of open land and dry weather, which makes it good to raise lots of cows and dry weather crops. In that place, milk is really cheap as they get lots of it, so he buys lots of it. Then he goes way across the ocean to get to a place where it rains more and it’s good to raise lots of rice and wet weather crops, but not so good for cows. He’ll sell them milk higher than he bought it, but less than other traders who charge lots for scarcities. With the money he gets from the milk, he’ll buy lots of rice, then go to a place where they want rice but can’t grow it. But it’s not just rice and milk, he trades lots of stuff and has to keep all kinds of information in his books to know what to sell when and where.”

“It’s still a dumb job,” the rude girl said, which got her a detention after class.

A few days after the report, she was running around the playground for recess when she spotted a flash of metal in the grass. Holly picked it up and found that it was a dirty penny. She took it back home and asked her mom how to clean it when her little sister was taking a nap. When they got it out of the vinegar wash, she noticed that it wasn’t a normal penny. It had a picture of some wheat on the back. It was interesting, but she didn’t collect coins. However, she knew a boy in her class that did.

She brought it to school the next day and showed it to him. His eyes bugged out on seeing the back. “Oh wow, that’s a wheat penny. You don’t find many of them anymore.”

“That’s neat,” she said, thinking it might seem rude if she said that she’d just found in it the grass here.

“Um, could I have it?” Holly was thinking about it, because the wheat penny was a little treasure. Then he said, “I’ll give you a quarter for it.”

“Really?” When he nodded and dug a quarter out of his pocket, she smiled and traded it. “Okay, that works.”

He checked the front again. “Wow, and it’s even the last year they made them, when they didn’t make as many. This’ll be great in my collection, thanks!”

Later on, she asked to go to the grocery store with her mother. They had quarter machines in there that gave out stickers, candies, and little plastic bubbles with colorful toys inside. But what did she want? The candies looked yummy, but wouldn’t last long. The stickers she could put all over her notebooks (some were even sparkly), but the toys she could play with for a long time. Luckily, her mom was still at the check-out counter, so she had some time to think.

While Holly couldn’t decide, an older girl went right to one of the toy machines and put in a quarter. She got the bubble and looked annoyed. “Aw man, Classy Kitty again? I never get Hammy Hound, it’s bad luck.”

The rude girl in her class really liked Classy Kitty. And she was dismissive of talks about the quarter machines because, according to her mom, they were gambling and so were bad. At the same time, she’d pout jealously if another girl showed off a Classy Kitty sticker from these machines. “Um, could I have it then?” she asked the older girl, a little scared because this wasn’t someone she knew and it might be rude. “I’ll give you another quarter.”

‘Well, all right squirt,” she said, handing over the bubble in exchange for the new quarter. A moment later, she whooped and looked over her new prize with glee. “Finally, thanks! Just what I needed.”

“That’s good,” Holly said, smiling back. The next school day, she brought the bubble prize with the Classy Kitty toy. “Look what I got,” she said, showing the other girls at the table.

There were several squeals from the other girls around the art table. “Wow, it’s so cute!” one said. “You’re lucky; I’m always getting Hammy Hound if I try those machines.” Meanwhile, the rude girl was pouting again.

“I didn’t know you liked that show too,” another girl said.

“Well no, I don’t watch it much,” Holly said. “But I thought the kitty character was cute, so I got this.”

The rude girl tried to not acknowledge it, but eventually gave in during recess. “So if you don’t watch the show, do you mind giving me the toy? I’ll give you five dollars for it.”

“Um, okay,” Holly said, trying not to show her delight.

Two weeks later, she finally had a chance to talk to her dad on the phone again. Holly happily told him how she turned a found penny into five dollars. He laughed at it. “You have a real knack to make those kind of trades. Maybe I’ll bring you along on one of my trips so you can see how things are really done.”

“Okay!” she said, excited for the chance to see lots of foreign places with her dad. “And maybe I can keep trading up until I can buy a farm!”

“Well, you’d need a lot more money than that to start up a farm,” he said.

But five dollars was a lot more than a single penny. If she could trade like that, then she could buy a farm of her own.

* * *

Although he rarely saw them these days, Frank considered his family one of the great joys in his life. His brother Daryl always tried to be seen as a stern businessman who didn’t give favors. But any time Frank mentioned he was having some trouble with tools or things for his home, Daryl would be quick to search for a deal and get something of good quality directly from the source. While he said the trading was fun now, Frank still treated him to a good home-grown meal whenever he came around Westown.

And there were his nieces who wrote him charming letters often. Lynn always sent along a picture or two that Frank would hang on the fridge. Sometimes that led Megan to tease him about ‘What child do you have hidden about here?’, which made him laugh. Meanwhile, Holly would ask about his crops and livestock, wanting to know how running a farm worked. Frank was happy to tell her, although Daryl tried to talk him out of it.

This time, he got something different with their letters: a fragrant white poppy that was just starting to open up. ‘I got the idea because last year’s students were complaining about how expensive flowers were for the spring dance unless they wanted the dingy carnations that the student council was selling. Since I joined the FFH this year, I was able to borrow some space in their greenhouse to grow these poppies. This is one of the late blooms, but I thought it was going to be real pretty so I reserved it to send to you. All year, I talked with the other girls about how pretty poppies were so that they talked about them to the boys.’

Holly even recounted how much she had spent on the seeds, soil, and other things, around eight dollars. Then she’d carefully grown them for good blooms and was able to sell them before the spring dance for a total of a hundred dollars. On top of that, she entered another that had bloomed too late for the dance into an FFH contest. She’d earned a rookie’s prize of fifty dollars for that. Frank could understand that, looking at the stately white poppy he now had in a vase. If it hadn’t been his niece writing the letter, he wouldn’t have believed this flower was from a city greenhouse.

Daryl had written to him about the poppy business as well. ‘I’d heard that she’d joined a club, which was encouraging since we move around all the time and she’s not formed any strong friendships as a result. But I didn’t hear until lately that it was the FFH. I’m proud of the work you do, but you know how much effort goes into making a living off farming. I was hoping they’d go for more stable lives, like finding a good husband and a job more suitable for women. Maybe if she wanted to be a florist, it’d work out, but no, she’s stubbornly insisting that she wants to be a farmer.’

“Please, the girl’s got a green thumb and you can’t miss it,” Frank said to himself. But how to convince his brother of that? Daryl was incredibly stubborn, already having plans for his girls whether they’d want it or not.

In the end, he tried convincing Daryl to go along with the florist idea for Holly. Perhaps seeing more of her grown flowers would get her father to give in.

Frank brought the poppy along with him when he went to the Garden Grill to hang out with other residents of Westown that evening. Megan had a mischievous sparkle to her face when she saw it. “Oo, do you have a secret wife now too?”

The old doctor there smirked at that. “What, and keeping her in the barn so we don’t see her?”

“Wouldn’t that be unsanitary?” the doctor’s new assistant, a young man named Ford, asked. He’d just started a work-study session out here, but it was already plain to see that he was rather humorless.

Frank laughed at them. “No, you’ll find no secrets with me. That there is from my niece, Holly. She’s a mite younger than Lisette here, but she does good, right?”

“Oh yes, it’s a lovely specimen,” one of the local florists said, turning the vase to see the poppy in fully. “She must have some talent to grow this so well at that age.”

“I’ve never grown a poppy,” Lisette said. The pigtailed girl was admiring it too, but then she liked many pretty things. “But it looks so nice. May I try?”

“It’d take a bit to search out those seeds, but we could see about it,” her father said, smiling proudly.

When he got back home, Frank added a bit to his letter to Daryl saying that other farmers and the florists in Westown thought Holly’s poppy was wonderful.

* * *

As a present for graduating from high school in the top percentage, Daryl was bringing her along for on his summer trading trips. Holly had thought that the way her family moved nearly every year was crazy, but that month was a complete whirlwind. They could wake up in one town, have lunch a hundred miles away, and then check into another inn on an entirely different continent. Still, in every place there seemed to be someone who traded with him often enough to seem like friends.

She did pay attention to all the goods they handled and how her father bargained with people. It started before they even spoke, going around to general stores and seeing what was there. “This is new here,” he would say, tipping forward a jar of powdered cinnamon. “Import label is here… that’s quite a price hike. But someone had to have asked for it, and the level of powder on the sides show that people are buying it. if it’s a chef, they could prefer cinnamon sticks to grate themselves, and I should have some of those in storage.”

Then Daryl asked the grocer about various products including who was asking for the cinnamon. That got them directed to a candy maker who was trying to get enough of a brand to open a shop. Once the grocer assured her that Daryl was trustworthy, they discuss not only the cinnamon, but about a request for handcrafted candies in another place and an offer to search around for better tools. The candy maker thought he was doing a wonderfully fair service for her. But Holly had peeked at his balance books before. Her father could make a profit off anything, even weeds.

At the start of the season, Daryl had given her a small fund to try out some trading on her own. She also had her money from FFH projects, prizes, and flower sales to invest with. Holly didn’t try anything risky, not yet. While her father turned his profits into more investment funds, she had a goal in mind other than just making money. It was going to be expensive to buy a farm of her own, plus she’d want some extra funds to get things going. But by making small safe investment trades, her farm fund was steadily growing.

There was one place where they stayed for a few days, the large estate of a wealthy family. It was called the Emerald Ranch, which excited Holly until she realized that they only raised horses in their enormous grounds. “They are beautiful horses,” she said to the rancher’s son. Beautiful enough that she doubted they did actual farm work like plowing or pulling carriages on a dusty road.

“Fast too, we have five of the top racing horses living and training here right now,” he said, smiling proudly as they leaned on the fence to talk. He was wearing the right kind of clothes for horseback riding, although they too seemed very clean.

“How do you train them up?” Holly asked. She’d much rather have a cow than a horse, but horses were great animals too.

He shook his head. “I don’t train ‘em, we’ve got a few hired hands who run them around the practice tracks. But I get to ride them in races and shows often; I’ve got a good hand for handling them under pressure like that.”

“Wouldn’t it be better for the jockey to take care of his horse so they’re close that way?” Holly asked. When he shrugged, she decided that she didn’t like him much. “Besides, it’s an odd ranch you have that has no cows and such.”

“Well we did start our family fortune five generations ago in raising cattle,” he said. “But top class horses bring more fame and we found other ways of getting wealthy.” He chuckled. “All the other families who stuck by only cattle got bought up by us or aren’t worth a fifth of what we are, no, more like not even a tenth.”

That wasn’t worth being proud of, not when they were hiring people to handle the daily chores of horse raising so they could bask in the glory. At least her father got out and talked to the people he was making money off of. “I guess,” she said, not wanting to be rude to him.

“You know, your pa and mine are bound to be talking about trying to get the two of us married,” he said, looking over at her. “It’d be a good sign our families will be strong partners for years to come.”

She frowned a little before she could stop it. “I hope they make sure we’re okay with it first.”

“Right, that would be proper,” he agreed. “Though we should be talking more about ourselves, don’t you think? I’ll be taking over my pa’s business when he retires. I mean, I got an older brother, but he took off for city life instead. I’m already doing a good chunk of the work myself to help Pa out. What about you, what do you have as a hobby?”

The way he said it irked her, but she kept that out of her words. “I’m not going to settle for just having a hobby. I’m working at trades so I can buy my own farm and be a farmer for life.”

He chuckled at that. “You’re kidding me, right? Ain’t no way a girl like you could be a farmer.”

“Why not?” she asked, trying not to cry about it. She definitely would not agree to marrying him, no way on earth.

“Well, it wouldn’t work out, right?” he said. “Calloused hands are not beautiful and a girl ought to be beautiful as long as she can be.”

“I don’t care about that,” Holly said. “I’ve dreamed of being a farmer as long as I can remember. I know it’s gonna be tough, but I’m gonna put in the work and make my dream come true.”

“Weird, most girls agree with me on that,” he said, then smiled and tried to wave over a speckled horse. It ignored him.

The sad thing was, she knew that most girls she had met would agree on that too. There were only a few girls that seemed to have the same drive to work for their dreams rather than trying to be pretty enough to get their dreams dropped into their laps. Even sadder, she knew that other guys would do that for them. And this boy’s reasons for why a girl shouldn’t be a farmer… Holly frowned down at the ground. A girl who made her own living should be admired for that, beautiful for her efforts.

* * *

The smell of old papers tickled Holly’s nose as she shuffled through the folders. It was tedious work too, though she was grateful that the real estate agent let her examine their land reports for herself. As her father had taught her in trading, research was vital for major purchases. Buying a farm was the next major step now that she was old enough to move out on her own and getting the right property was important. Her father assumed that she would use her funds to go to college, but she felt ready to jump right in.

And this wasn’t the first place she was checking land reports either. After finding the listings she was interested in, Holly took them to a couch nearby to read. Comparing various reports got a few options knocked off. There were three that seemed promising.

The Grain Valley listing… as the name of the area suggested, it’d be optimal for growing grains. The flatter lands could be good for livestock too. Except, she didn’t find mention of a barn or coop already on the available property. The climate zone and local soil ratings were worrisome too. The amount of crops she could grow there were limited unless she used fertilizers to change soil acidity and planters for crops that simply couldn’t grow in clay-heavy soil. Still, grains could be a reliable income here.

And the house on the property was impressive. It seemed rather large for a single person, but the amount of rooms would be handy if she felt like getting married and having a family. The report mentioned that it had recently updated wiring and plumbing; it’d be of comparable convenience to a modern city home. With appliances, a modern furnace, and furniture already there, it was livable already.

Of course, having a house like that drove the price higher than the other listings she was considering. Holly might have to take out a loan on that one even with her current funds. There was also no mention of a local guardian spirit, which was curious. While most people couldn’t see them, guardian spirits or deities could bless the land they dwelled in. it was vital for a farmer to honor them. Thus, the real estate report should mention something about what kind of spirits were in the area.

The Shale Mountain listing… it looked cheap, but there wasn’t a lot of land there. There were references to available plots nearby that could be bought up to increase her farm’s size, but those would be separate purchases. In the soil composition review, the ground looked promising for supporting a variety of crops. Grapes in particular could be an excellent investment there. Although, there was a note that there were a lot of rocks and boulders scattered around. The property was on the side of a mountain; such rocks would be a constant presence.

Having a farm on a mountainside had other challenges as well. Holly knew it’d be better to set up terraces so that soil wouldn’t wash away in times of heavy rain. The climate zone and altitude meant that winters would be cold and she could have a difficult time leaving her farm then. Due to the slopes, she’d have to be careful with choosing her animals too. they’d have to be the right breeds to handle rough terrain. Though, goats would do really well there. And there was a mine on the property, which could be a boon.

Unlike Grain Valley, this listing had information about the local guardian. But it wasn’t promising. There was a large city on a neighboring mountain, which was where the guardian lived. Thus, they were primarily a city spirit who might not care much about farms nearby. Holly thought the challenge of the area could be interesting, but she’d want to research more information about the guardian to know if they’d be of any help. The house in the listing seemed decent enough, albeit not as developed as the other house.

The Crossroads listing… there were a couple of interesting bits already. Holly had researched any possible farms in the area where her Uncle Frank lived. Westown itself had no available farmland properties. However, it did have a connections to an open crossroads. Such places were said to be the paths of spirits, magical paths that turned distant locations into neighbors. Her father made use of some that were open to humans in his many travels. And there was an available farm right at the crossroads near Westown.

Being close to her uncle was a huge plus; it might even sway her father into accepting her decision. But even better than that, it was a crossroads! The land there would be inherently magical in drawing power from the places it was connected to. This particular crossroads connected three communities, each with their own guardian spirit. Along with the prairie canyon around Westown, there was the tropical island village Lulukoko and rural river town Tsuyukusa. The soil tests in the report were old and unscientific, but it should have the capacity to support crops from any of the locations it was connected to. She could grow a far larger variety than the other two locations, even find local heirloom crops that she’d never heard of.

There was a barn and coop already on the property; it should be a great place for livestock as well. Although, the house was tiny, not much bigger than the barn. The photos of it were old too, with no notes on recent renovations. She’d have to invest in updating those buildings. Still, the price per acre was low. With so much potential, it could be a once-in-a-lifetime deal.

Then again, the reason it was such a deal was because the listing was quite old. Neither the field tests nor the inspection notes seemed up to current legal standards. Holly could imagine her father’s admonishment for not requesting a new inspection before purchase. How much would that cost? And why had it been on the market so long?

The latter question at least could be answered with these papers. There were notes from sixty years ago about an inheritance argument. In the margin, someone had scribbled down, ‘Neither of them want it, they just don’t want the other to have it.’ The next notes were thirteen years later, from the initial listing of the property. While the price didn’t look too bad to her, buyers at that time thought it was too high and the owner would not budge.

By the time the price went down, the property had gone unused for over thirty-five years. It seemed like buyers were wary of that. One line even remarked that a potential buyer thought the place was haunted. But maybe it was a sprite or something that most people couldn’t see? Around eleven years ago, the owner passed away and their inheritors sold the property to the agency. They had tried to auction it off a few times, to very little interest.

It could be a risky purchase even if she could offer low due to no competition. But the crossroads had to give it incredible potential! And she could be neighbors to her Uncle Frank finally. While Holly did hire an inspector to check the property out for her, she had decided on the crossroads farm in almost certainty.

* * *

Frank worked in his home today, doing some very early spring cleaning before spring was even here. It was just as well, since the early spring work to get the crops going would keep him out all hours of the day. Still, the reason he was doing this was because his guitar needed new strings and there was nowhere in Westown to pick up new ones. It was an unwelcome disruption to his usual routine. At least the house was getting cleaned as a result, that had to be good.

When the door knocked, he thought it’d be the delivery for the strings. Instead, he found his brother Daryl outside waiting on him. He had that tightness of his eyes that he got when he didn’t want to admit to losing. “Well howdy Daryl,” Frank said, smiling but worried about him. “What’s eating at you?”

“Is it so obvious something’s wrong?” Daryl said, accepting his hug although he’d never been much of a hugger.

“Well you don’t often drop by without warning, but more then that, you let your suit get dusty coming out here,” he pointed out. Frank was used to the red dust that scattered everywhere in the winds; his work meant that some dust and mud was to be expected. On the other hand, Daryl was always careful to be clean no matter where he went.

“Sorry, there’s been a lot on my mind since yesterday,” he said. “I was going to write about what happened, but I felt like it’d be better to talk about instead.”

“Of course, come on in,” Frank said. In order to get here, Daryl would have had to take the train from Northridge. Or even further down the line, since Northridge wasn’t exactly an easy place to get into either. Westown was connected to a crossroads, but those paths had been trashed in a recent blizzard.

Daryl nodded his thanks, but someone else came off the road towards the house. “Howdy there Frank!” Wayne called out, waving to him. Daryl was quick to put on an expression that was more the face of a businessman rather than that of a troubled man. “Got a delivery you’ve been waiting on here.”

In spite of the company, Frank grinned at the news. “From the music store in Northridge, right? Thanks Wayne, glad to finally have it!

Wayne smiled, taking the box out of his delivery bag to hand over. “Of course, and I’m sure people will be happy to see you on the Grill’s stage again, especially Miranda.” He started to give a friendly tip of his hat to Daryl, but paused. “Oh hey, you’re Daryl, right? The world-traveling fair trade guy if I remember right.”

Oddly enough, Daryl seemed to recognize him too. “Yes.  I seem to recall seeing you a time or two?”

Wayne nodded.  “It's been a while; don’t think I’ve seen you since I still lived at home.”

“Actually, he’s my brother, just dropping by for a visit this time,” Frank said. Thinking that Daryl might not recall his name if he’d not dealt with him directly, he added, “Wayne here has been our postmaster for a couple of years.”

Wayne chuckled. “Heh, funny world, isn’t it? I had no idea you two’d be related. I’ve leave you to your visiting; got other deliveries to make anyhow. Have a good day then.”

“Right, see you later,” Frank said, going in to set his replacement strings aside. That could be handled once Daryl was gone. “Here, I’ll get us some snacks and you can tell me what’s going on.”

“Sure.” Of course, it didn’t take him long to go ahead and start explaining. “We were getting ready to move on again. I’ve told you before, but San Verence has been been more or less my main base for trade. For years, I wanted Marlena and the girls to live there, only the housing market has been ridiculous and no good houses in the school district I prefer were for sale reasonably. But I finally got us a house there. Real nice one, it’ll be the biggest one we’ve had yet.”

“That’s nice, it’d be easier for you all to catch the train out here.” San Verence would still be a long ride on the train out to Westown, but it was the nearest big city on the line. He’d like to be able to see his nieces again. “But what’s the catch?”

“Well Holly’s been out of school for half a year; I thought she’d go to college in Verence or be getting married soon. Instead, she says she wants to move out and become a farmer.” Daryl closed his eyes and sighed.

Although Daryl obviously didn’t like it, Frank felt happy about that. “I ain’t surprised,” he said. “She’s always asking me about my farm and she’s been in the FFH for years.”

“Well it surprised me,” he said, some anger in his words. “I knew she was doing really well in school and the teachers praised her extracurricular work. I just never heard that it was the FFH she was still in. And yeah, I knew she was taking floriculture in middle school, but I figured that was where a lot of girls went to cover some science credits. Plus she was always using those flowers she grew like a trader would, buying the seeds when they were cheap to sell as flower when demand was high around school dances and such. I’m sure she was having fun when I took her out trading; she made some really good deals for a novice.”

“She wrote me that she was having fun because of getting to be with you,” Frank said. “I mean, even if you two argue a lot, she really loves you as her pa.”

“It was fun,” he said, smiling briefly. Then he frowned again. “Then she had to suggest that I was just doing trades to make money with no other goals. Hmph, I’ve been working to build our dad’s business and give them a good life. But she had a goal for all that money, so she said. She’s already bought the farm, you see.”

“Really?” That was worrisome, even if Holly had a shrewd head for money.

Daryl grumbled quietly a moment. “She was waiting until she had an offer accepted to tell us, and that just so happened to be right when I announced to them that we were moving to San Verence. About the only good thing about it is that the place she bought is near Westown, so she’d be close to you.”

“Hmm, I hadn’t heard about a farm property in the area going up for sale,” Frank said. His nearest farming neighbors were Megan and her son Hector; the two of them were unlikely to give up their place any time soon. And once you got out of the valley, there weren’t many arable properties to turn into a farm.

“She bought the place at the crossroads,” Daryl said. “It’s not physically close, but the gates would make it just a short walk here.”

Frank raised an eyebrow at that. “That old place? Man, that’s quite a catch if you could make it work. Must’ve been a bargain too since nobody’s owned the property in decades.”

“That only makes the purchase more foolish,” he said, shaking his head. “Some properties are good to buy if they’ve been on the market too long, but that’s usually places in cities where you can rebuild. I remember the times we’ve gone to that place thinking about buying it ourselves. The home’s a wreck and the whole property is probably haunted. “

“Well the hauntings mean that she might be one of the few who could make that place work,” he said.

Daryl narrowed his eyes across the table. “What makes you think that? She’s a girl! She won’t be able to put in all the hard work and effort to get even an easy place going.”

“I wouldn’t be saying that if Megan were around,” Frank reminded him.

He had it covered well, but Frank noticed Daryl’s embarrassment when he said, “Well, she’s different. She’s...” he bit his lips trying to make a difference.

He waved that off. “Back to what I was saying, Holly’s got spirit sight. She never lost the ability to see beings that only children see. If that place really is haunted, she’d be able to see what spirits are there and find ways to get them out or work around them. And she’s done farm work for FFH, so she should know how to handle the daily chores.”

“Well maybe she’s worked the tiny plots they give students, but that’s a massive property that needs a serious cleaning out. I don’t think she can handle it.” He put his hands together and closed his eyes. “I mean, her blood mother had spirit sight too and it ruined her.”

“We can’t say that for sure,” Frank said. Actually, there weren’t a lot of things they could say about Holly’s real mother for sure. Daryl had broken up with her right when he learned about the things she saw, before they’d known she was with child. Although he wouldn’t say it, Frank suspected that that had hurt the poor woman more than she’d let on.

“I tried to raise her like a normal girl, but she still talks about nature sprites and ghosts like they’re nothing to worry about,” Daryl said. “Maybe the nature sprites are fine out in a rural place like this, but spirits can be a real nuisance in urban areas. In a place as wild as that one, the spirits are going to be strong.”

“But what are you gonna do about her when she owns the farm already?” he asked. “She’s an adult and has every legal right to move out there and make her own living.”

“That’s another big problem I’m worried about, if she has the sense to make her own living. It’s not easy supporting yourself. We had each other when we started out, and I suppose Megan was an invaluable neighbor at the time. Even so, we were on bare bones living for a while, especially when that massive typhoon blew through. You know how those storms can get out here.”

Frank nodded. Bad weather would be a problem everywhere. However, he was close to a crossroads. The magic that bound different parts of the world together sometimes went wrong and summoned a devastating storm that afflicted all those connected to the crossroads. Northridge had no crossroads, so it could be sunny and fine while Westown was under a typhoon.

Even so, “That’s just a risk you take along with the benefit that farming alongside a crossroads brings. Still, I’m sure she’s aware of that. I’ve written her about such storms. And she might look like her mother and have the same sight, but Holly’s definitely got your sharp mind. I have a hunch she’s done her research instead of just looking for a place near me.”

“She said something like that, but...” that frustrated embarrassment came back.

Of course. “Did you not let her explain since you were arguing at that point?”

“That might have happened,” he admitted. “I just don’t like this. I was ready to let her go on her own, but as a farmer under these conditions? It’ll be harsh on her.”

“It’s harsh on everybody when they start out,” Frank said, trying to encourage him to accept this. “Besides, she won’t be alone. Megan and I are gonna be her neighbors, just a short walk away if she has trouble or wants some advice. Even if our town ain’t as big and bustling as Northridge, I’d say Westown is a great place for supporting a young farmer. And our far-flung neighbors are too, at least once the roads get cleared.”

“The seed and animal supplies you get here are limited,” Daryl said, his mindset on trading slipping in. “It grows good for this area strictly around Westown, just not much variety. Perhaps aceess to the other two towns would help, but then… and I seem to recall you complaining about the lack of a dedicated carpenter around?”

Shrugging, Frank said, “Used to be an issue, but there’s a talented guy over in Lulukoko who doesn’t mind coming over to help out on a job. As I said, once the roads are cleared, things will improve. She’ll have plenty of nearby support if she goes looking for it.”

“So you’re going to be on her side too?” Daryl said, his shoulder sagging.

“At least give her a year to try things,” Frank said. “She’s young, so she could adapt to another career if things don’t work out.”

“That’s what Marlena said.” He shook his head. “It may be reasonable, but I still don’t like it.”

“I’m thinking you won’t be liking anything that involves letting your little girls go,” he said. “Nut Holly at least has grown into a fine young lady, at least by what I read in her letters. And Lynn’s not too far behind, so this is going to happen whether you like it or not.”

After a lot more talking, Frank finally agreed to go check on the crossroads property to see if there was anything he could fix up before Holly got there. Maybe not the house, but he thought there were some livestock buildings on the land that wouldn’t need as much work. And some open fields ready for a hoe would be handy so she could get things started. Any small thing would be a little help for giving Daryl less things to fret about because Holly was as stubborn as he was and would be coming out here soon.

All in all, it was great news that he had to act like he was more concerned about than he was so that Daryl didn’t do something rash like disown Holly.

* * *

From the train window, the vast stretches of grassy prairie grew from the red earth. That had to be the national part she’d read about, a place trying to keep native wildlife from being overtaken by the large ranches out here. Far off in the distance, there was a dark area that showed a widening canyon. The land would get more fertile down there. According to history she’d read, miners had risked much to make the rare fortune, but they were gone by now. The farmers who’d come to support the miners stayed due to the canyon’s rich earth.

Not that she’d actually be in the canyon. Going to Westown was simply the best way to get to her new home and farm. And the train… there was a strange nostalgia to this, listening to the steady clatter of the wheels and the muffled conversations in other rows. It had a feeling of moving into a new life. From before? She had hazy memories of riding another train in a time of change. Perhaps that was years ago when she first moved in with Marlena and Daryl.

Holly never thought about that much, mostly because they were her parents even if only one of them was her blood relative. Her mother and her sister were happy to see her off this morning, if also sad that she was leaving them. More importantly, her father had finally agreed to let her do this. He didn’t smile like they had and said that she could come back any time if she found a farmer’s life too hard. In fact, he’d probably rather her come back. Holly felt sure he still cared about her; he just worried too much about things that were not problems at all.

This new life might be hard, but she was going to make it a wonderful one.

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking about writing a long story for this game, but I'm not sure how well the plot would hold up in a novel format. Instead, I'll be posting a series of short stories using what ideas I had; it'll work out better, especially timewise and my ability to focus on parts that interest me more. Plus I couldn't settle on how to pair up all the candidates, so now I can write about any possible pairings, hee hee.
> 
> For this particular fic, I focused on one of the bigger questions in my mind: how did the main character get their farm? The Tycoon trait hints that maybe s/he managed to buy it with some natural business talent. It also seems reasonable that Daryl actually bought the property and his Farming Tips tests are making sure that his investment is put to good use. But I prefer the idea of the MC managing it on their own.


End file.
